


Safe

by RainySpringMorning



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Charles Being Concerned, Dreams and Nightmares, Drowning, M/M, Poor Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-03
Updated: 2016-05-03
Packaged: 2018-06-06 03:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6735874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RainySpringMorning/pseuds/RainySpringMorning
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A short one shot I wrote before packing it in for the night. I have a thing for writing about Erik and nightmares, it seems. Poor guy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Safe

“I’m glad you saved me that night.”

Charles looks up from where he’s drafting an essay in his armchair, the pad of paper resting on his knee. Across from him is Erik. The metallokinetic’s gaze is unusually steady, hardly wavering as steel-grey locks with bright azure.

“I never properly thanked you for stopping me from attempting something of that magnitude,” he goes on, a hint of hesitation slowing his words. “But I felt I needed to say something. To let you know I appreciate… that.”

Charles sets the paper aside and shifts slightly, making himself more comfortable. He can feel something rattling at the front of Erik’s mind, but can’t quite place what it is; like a serpent, it twists to and fro out of his grasp as it is thought of over and over.

“Well… you are most welcome, my friend.” Charles narrows his eyes slightly. “Is everything alright, Erik?”

The metallokinetic nods abruptly, a quick jerkiness that leaves Charles more doubtful than relieved, but nevertheless the telepath leans back in his chair and resumes working on his essay. He won’t press Erik; eventually, he’ll come forward on his own when he’s ready.

~X~

It isn’t much longer that Charles has to wait. Unfortunately, Erik doesn’t get a chance to confront whatever is bothering him by his own accord.

The clock clicks three and Charles vaults upright in bed, gasping and slick with sweat. The blankets have been kicked around and every tiny hair on his skin is prickling, standing on end with fear. His skin is electrified with surging alarm. He struggles to climb out of bed and stumbles across the floor, catching his toe on the doorjamb painfully, and rushes out into the hall to Erik’s room.

Snapping on the bedside light and ducking out of the way of a flying metal lump, Charles staggers to the side of the bed and pulls back the thrashing blankets. Pressing two fingers to his temple and wrapping his hand around one of Erik’s wrists, he plunges into the panicked metallokinetic’s mind and drags him up to consciousness. Erik surfaces with a feeble cry and immediately falls limp, panting and glistening with sweat as though he’s run a marathon. Slowly, his eyes slide open and Charles sits next to him worriedly.

“Are you ready to tell me what’s wrong?” Charles asks as gently as he can manage. Erik closes his eyes and shakes his head, calming now. The tendril is circling in his mind again and this time, without bothering to ask, Charles seizes it.

The world is water, dark and heavy. He bobs in the swelling currents, numb with fear. Ahead, the propeller of the submarine fades into blackness. There is a feeling of expectancy, but it is never fulfilled. Expectancy becomes dreaded anticipation, then betrayed loneliness. The world becomes bleak and airless. Charles emerges before it becomes too much.

“I would never have let you die,” he tells Erik firmly. “You must believe me when I tell you that.”

“I do. It’s only…”

“No. Erik, don’t waste precious energy fearing what never was or will be,” Charles loosens his hold on Erik’s wrist and squeezes his hand tightly. “You’re here, you’re alive, and that’s all that matters. You’re safe.”

Erik nods tiredly. “ _Danke, Charles._ ”

Charles smiles, feeling the press of content sleep ebbing at the corners of Erik’s mind. “Goodnight, Erik. Sleep well.”

He snaps off the light and leaves the room, favouring his stubbed toe but in a fair mood nonetheless. He takes the time to rearrange his blankets on his bed to fair order before crawling in, and rolls onto his side. He reaches out and finds the metallokinetic fast asleep and beyond the point of dreaming.

“I’m glad I saved you, too.”

**Author's Note:**

> If only another one of my stories had ended with a dream and it not actually being real. You know the one if you've read it. Gosh, I'm so cruel to him...


End file.
